


Questing

by tehfanglyfish



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Introspection, M/M, Questing, There is a Pratchett Reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 12:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17828765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehfanglyfish/pseuds/tehfanglyfish
Summary: Arthur embarks on his most difficult quest to date... a quest to find the words of love.Not my franchise, not my characters, no profits for me.





	Questing

Arthur Pendragon, king of Camelot and champion knight, had gone on many quests in his life, but never any as difficult as the one he was currently undertaking. While he wouldn’t have to face the perils of the Perilous Lands, fight an actual questing beast, or even leave the kingdom, this quest was proving the most daunting of them all. Arthur was not entirely convinced that he would succeed. You see, Arthur was on a quest to find the words to tell Merlin, his substandard manservant and dearest friend, the true nature of his feelings for the man.

Arthur hadn’t grown up with the best parental role model when it came to matters of the heart. His father had made it clear that “feelings” were merely something to be artificially cultivated to secure a strategic marriage partner. Perhaps at one point in Uther’s life he had been softer and more affectionate, but whatever might have existed of that man had died along with Ygraine.

It’s not that Arthur didn’t have warm feelings, even when they made life complicated. Take the case of his half-sister, Morgana. Arthur had loved Morgana dearly, mostly like a sibling, excepting a brief and never-to-be-spoken-of infatuation with her in late adolescence. Arthur’s trouble with emotional expression had kept him from ever mentioning his fleeting attraction, which was actually a great relief when she and Arthur later discovered that they shared a father. His brotherly love returned in full force. When Arthur learned that Morgana possessed innate magic, he didn’t have her executed or even arrested. Instead, with the help of Merlin, Arthur had devised a plan to send Morgana off to study with a group of Old Religion high priestesses. This plan had shocked Morgana, as she fully expected Arthur to sentence her to the pyre.

“You surprise me, Arthur. You’re not like Uther at all. Maybe one day we can be a family, but I don’t want anything to do with anyone with a penis for at least a year,” Morgana had said as she departed. The kingdom was saved and so was his sister, even if Morgana’s words had wounded him.

And then consider the affection between Arthur and his closest knights. (No, gentle reader, not _that_ kind of affection.) He would never say a word of this to any of them, but in his heart Arthur loved them like the brothers he’d never had. It secretly delighted him when they included him in their banter and teasing. Arthur would take it to his death, but he inwardly smiled every time Gwaine called him “Princess.” He might try to remain aloof for the sake of proper royal appearances, but Arthur would not die alone and bitter like Uther.

Gaius had his place in Arthur’s heart, providing him with the affection he craved in childhood that Uther could never muster. When Uther put too much pressure on Arthur, Gaius would use the pretext of a science lesson to get the boy out of the castle and away from his father’s scrutiny.

Gaius was, Arthur decided, what an uncle should be. Not that Arthur knew for sure. When Uther had taken ill and couldn’t reign, Arthur’s maternal uncle Agravaine had planned to visit and assist Arthur, but had been eaten by a dragon on his way to Camelot. Why no one else in Agravaine’s entourage had been harmed was a bit of a mystery, as were the reports from Agravaine’s servants that the dragon laughed as it devoured his uncle.  These things sometimes happened, Arthur supposed.

Though they shared no relatives, Arthur truly felt as though Guinevere was his second sister. He’d known her for all of his adult life. For a time, he even thought that he was in love with her, but a brief and failed courtship revealed that Uther had simply never prepared him for the possibility of friendship with women. (In the interests of full disclosure, Uther hadn’t prepared Arthur for the possibility of friendship at all.) Gwen found romantic love with Lancelot and a trusted and dear friend in Arthur. The king even afforded her a seat at the round table, as she was an excellent advisor on domestic policy matters.

Arthur knew that he loved Morgana, Gwen, Gaius, and the knights in ways that went beyond appreciation for loyalty and service to the kingdom. He also believed that he had struck the appropriate balance of affection and royal reservation for those relationships. He was not as open with them as they were with one another, but he was far closer to and warmer with them than Uther had been to anyone, Arthur included.

Merlin was the one remaining person who caused Arthur to struggle constantly with his feelings. Arthur wasn’t entirely sure of how it happened but over the years their relationship had evolved. It began as something forced upon them when Uther named Merlin Arthur’s servant, but had grown into a deep friendship. Arthur trusted Merlin more than anyone else. He relied on Merlin for advice and emotional support. No one could ease his periodic waves of self-doubt like Merlin. As the king’s personal servant, Merlin spent the majority of his waking hours in Arthur’s presence, something that Arthur had come to depend on. When he was unsure of a policy decision, he looked to Merlin for guidance, even if that might just be a nod, a shrug, or a smile. Arthur felt more confident going into battle if he knew that Merlin was close by. After hours of deference from subjects, nobles, and visiting dignitaries, Arthur relished the time spent alone in his chambers with Merlin. The man had crafted insolence into an art form. He joked with Arthur in a way that even the knights wouldn’t dare. Merlin was one of the few people who would openly criticize Arthur, but never with malice. If Arthur was entirely honest, Merlin was the one person who made him feel fully human.

What complicated life for Arthur was his own internal acknowledgement that over the years somehow his affection for Merlin had left him wanting more. Arthur longed to hold Merlin’s hand when making difficult decisions. He wanted to embrace Merlin at the end of a trying day and fall asleep wrapped in his arms. This is not to say that none of Arthur’s fantasies were of a carnal nature. Arthur tried to corral his more passionate desires during his waking hours, but in his dreams the royal brain conjured an erotic free-for-all, imagining countless ways in which the king and his servant could… become better acquainted.

After years of waiting for these inconvenient feelings to fade, Arthur realized that they were instead only growing stronger and must be dealt with. And so, he found himself on the most difficult quest of his life, the quest for the words of true love.

Arthur began by looking inside of himself. After all, kings were by their very nature supposed to be wise and eloquent. Arthur hoped that he could just jot down what he felt, hand the parchment to Merlin, and reap the rewards of a successful wooing. Plying himself with mead, Arthur stayed up for the better part of a night writing what seemed at the time to be the most perfect words. The following morning revealed a heavily marked-up parchment with the only legible bits reading:

Your lips are red.

Your eyes are blue.

I want to lick your neck and try to make babies with you.

(Even though I know you can’t have them.)

“Did you write this?” Merlin asked as he laid out Arthur’s breakfast.

“No! Gods no! I… um… I found it in a corridor.”

“Right,” said Merlin. “So who is she? Don’t tell me you’ve set your sights on one of the older women in the kitchens.”

Arthur threw a cup at Merlin.

“ _She_ is clearly the love of some fool who should be more careful with his awful poetry. Now leave me to eat in peace.”

Arthur then vowed to never drink again, at least not while on this particular quest.

Since his own words had failed him, Arthur decided the next best course of action would be to seek out the work of a more skilled writer. Shirking off training and court petitions for the day, Arthur wandered to the castle library to consult its volumes of poetry. He settled in with a collection of Roman poems and was caught up in the words of Catullus when a voice from behind interrupted him.

“Can I help you with something, sire?” Geoffrey of Monmouth had apparently returned to his domain.

“Er… I was just… doing research… on um… for policies and…”

“I see.” Geoffrey smiled. “If you don’t mind my asking sire, who is the lucky lady?”

Arthur stammered something about seeing to his knights and bolted from the library. The last thing he needed was the old man in his business. As much as Arthur wanted to return to retrieve the book, he feared that doing so would only lead to unfounded rumors. Everyone knew that Geoffrey was the biggest gossip in all of Camelot.

A few days later Arthur found himself consulting with his trusted knight and advisor, Sir Leon. Though Arthur wasn’t sure if Leon had ever actually written poetry, the knight had been quick to offer many impromptu recitations of verse after the evening Leon had caught Arthur and Merlin chasing Uther’s spirit through the castle. Perhaps Merlin’s cover story of poetry lessons would actually have value after all.

“Leon, there is a matter that I wish to discuss with you. A delicate matter.”

“I am at your service, sire. What do you need?”

“I was wondering…” Arthur couldn’t believe that he actually going to go through with this. “I was wondering if you happen to know any love poetry. That you might be able to teach me. So that I would know it… for later.”

“Let me think. Well… most of the verses that I am familiar with tell the tales of epic battles. There was… it’s not quite a poem. It’s more of a song that I learned from an old woman named Ogg in a mountain tavern. I’m not sure if it’s what you seek, sire, but you could recite the lyrics in a poetic fashion.”

“What is it called?”

“The Hedgehog Can Never Be Buggered at All.”

“Ah. That’s… that’s not quite it. But thank you, Leon.”

“I will endeavor to learn love poetry, sire. Perhaps I could write…”

“That won’t be necessary, Leon. I think I’ve tired of poetry for the time being.”

“Very well. If you don’t mind my asking, sire, what is the name of our queen-to-be?”

Arthur sighed and walked away.

Careful reflection caused Arthur to consider that maybe his approach to this quest was all wrong. After all, to succeed in obtaining the trident of the Fisher King, he’d needed the help of others. Clearly Merlin wasn’t an option, but perhaps he could seek out Gwaine’s assistance. Without, of course, letting Gwaine know what Arthur was up to. He went to visit Gwaine’s chambers that evening.

“Hello, Princess. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need to discuss something with you. In private.”

Gwaine gestured for Arthur to enter and closed the door behind him.

“Gwaine, I have heard from reputable sources that you know things. Things about women and wooing. Especially women at the Rising Sun. Also Morgana. We’ll need to talk about that at some point but not right now. I… um… wanted to ask if you could… um…”

“So the Princess has taken a liking to a princess of his own,” Gwaine laughed at Arthur.

“No, it’s not like that. Not at all. Possibly a bit.”

Gwaine’s laughter stopped and he stared at Arthur thoughtfully.

“Ah. Not a princess then. A prince. Or rather… a servant” Gwaine gave Arthur a knowing look.

Arthur froze. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He was having trouble breathing. Gwaine clapped him on the back.

“It’s about damn time. And honestly, you don’t need my help with this one. Trust me.”

Arthur wasn’t entirely sure of how he made it back to his own chambers that night.

Arthur conceded that this quest was not only the most difficult but also the oddest on which that he’d ever embarked. The fact that Gwaine kept giving him little encouraging smiles only compounded this sensation of strangeness. The man was maddening and Arthur was still unsure of entirely what he’d meant or of how to proceed. Inspiration came one afternoon as he watched Guinevere and Lancelot stroll through the castle courtyard.

Arthur knew what he was doing ethically questionable. There was no way to really justify sneaking into Guinevere’s house to read her diary. It wasn’t that Arthur wanted to pry into Gwen’s private thoughts. It’s just that she and Lancelot were clearly very much in love and he hoped that perhaps he’d find the answer to his Merlin dilemma. What he hadn’t counted on was Gwen returning early.

“Arthur! What the hell are you doing?!? Er, um, sire.”

“Gwen. You weren’t supposed to be back yet. I… um…” He handed the diary to her without making eye contact.

“My behavior was reprehensible. I’ll just be going.”

Gwen sighed and counted to ten.

“Wait, Arthur. I’m calm now. Sort of. Why were you reading my diary?”

Arthur took a deep breath.

“I needed help with a… a private matter.”

Gwen stared at him.

“A matter of the heart. And you and Lancelot are so happy together. I thought maybe there was a secret… I need the right words, Gwen!”

“You could’ve just asked me, you know. We’re friends, Arthur, but what you did was wrong. Very wrong. Anyway, is this about Merlin?”

“What did Gwaine tell you?”

“Gwaine? Nothing. I haven’t spoken with Gwaine in days.”

“Then how did you…?”

“Oh, Arthur, it’s obvious. You’re constantly bantering with each other like an old married couple. He’s always at your side. And the way that you two make eyes at each other. Honestly, half the time it looks like you’re about to start kissing each other senseless in the middle of council meetings. It’s not like it’s really a secret.”

“It’s not?”

“Well, maybe it is to people who don’t know you that well. Or those who are bit dense, like Geoffrey or Leon. But I would imagine that it’s pretty clear to anyone else who is close to you.”

“So does that mean that Merlin knows?”

“I think the best thing you can do is ask him. Don’t worry about your words. Just be yourself and everything will be fine. Well, provided that you stay out of my diary.”

“I am very sorry.”

“Apology accepted. Do it again and you’ll never consummate your relationship with Merlin.”

Women could be quite frightening, Arthur concluded as he left Gwen’s house.

Arthur decided that the best course of action was to retire for the evening and seek Merlin out in the morning. The final stage of a quest was best completed after a good night’s sleep.

The problem with this plan was that Merlin was already in Arthur’s chambers when the king returned.

“So have you been out writing poetry again?”

“Shut up, Merlin. Why are you here?”

“Doing my job. Serving your dinner. Putting away your clothes. Preparing your bath. The usual. Anyway, when are you going to tell me about her?”

“About who?”

“Your mystery woman. The one with the eyes and the lips and the neck… It’s clear that you’re quite besotted with her.”

As Merlin prattled on, Arthur took a moment to really watch the man, realizing that his servant had assumed the overly cheerful manner that he often deployed when upset. The more that Merlin rambled, speculating about Arthur and the supposed mystery woman, the more frantic Merlin’s voice was becoming.

“Merlin, hush. There is no woman.”

“But your poem. I know you wrote that, Arthur. It was in your handwriting.”

Arthur took a deep breath.

“I did write it.”

“So who is she?”

“Why do you want to know so badly?”

“I… a servant should always be prepared for…”

“And that’s the only reason, is it?”

“What… what other reason would there be?”

 “Merlin,” Arthur met Merlin’s eyes. “I did write it. About someone that I… that I care about. But there is no woman.”

“So if there is no woman… then who?”

“You, you cabbage head. I wrote that god-awful drivel about you. I’ve been trying for weeks to find the right words, Merlin. It’s been a quest. A secret one. It’s become an absolute nightmare and I still don’t have the words and so I don’t know how to tell you that I love you and I really wish that you’d never found that parchment because it’s mortifying and you probably think I’m an absolute fool…”

While Arthur had been having his meltdown, Merlin had crossed the room to stand directly before his king. He smiled at Arthur as he took off his neckerchief.

“What are you doing?”

“You did say that you wanted to lick my neck.”

Arthur inhaled sharply.

“And try to make babies.”

Arthur’s brain stopped for a moment. He feared that this might be the end but then he remembered how to breathe and keep his heart beating and his digestion going.

“That’s… that’s true. Although maybe first we could…”

Tentatively, Arthur reached a hand out to stroke Merlin’s face. Merlin sighed and leaned into Arthur’s touch. Slowly, Arthur narrowed the remaining distance between them. They bumped noses. Arthur could feel Merlin’s breath on his lips. All he had to do was tilt his head and slightly lean forward and…

Kissing Merlin was not all that Arthur had dreamed it would be. It was so much more. It was better than tournament wins and battlefield victories and coronations combined. What began as a chaste touching of lips rapidly intensified into desperate, open-mouthed kisses that left Arthur feeling lightheaded. His knees shook. His body trembled. He felt as though he might collapse and yet he refused to break the connection with Merlin. Clearly Merlin was experiencing something similar, as Arthur could feel tremors pulsing through the body he held close.

Eventually the need to breathe forced them to pull apart. Arthur nervously met Merlin’s eyes and blushed. Merlin grinned, then pressed his forehead to Arthur’s shoulder. They stood embracing, recovering from the intensity of it all.

“That was…” Arthur again found himself searching for words. “Magical.”

Merlin’s body tensed in Arthur’s arms.

“Everything alright?”

When Merlin met his gaze this time, there were tears in his eyes. He tried to speak but choked instead.

“Was this too much? Did I miss something? I’m so sorry. I though you wanted…”

“Arthur… I love you. I have for years. But first I have to… I have magic. I was born with it. And I never meant to lie to you. I’ve wanted to tell you for years it’s just…”

“Merlin, that’s not funny. Why would you even say that? Is this your way of trying to tell me off because…”

“Look.”

Merlin cupped his hands together and held them in front of Arthur. Muttering something that the king couldn’t quite make out, Merlin’s eyes flashed gold. He opened his hands and a small, blue butterfly flew out. Merlin dropped Arthur’s gaze and his body began to shake for a different reason.

Though his first impulse was to push Merlin away, Arthur caught himself before he acted on it. Instead, he wrapped a sobbing Merlin in a tight hug and started to think. He had grown up constantly hearing his father’s warnings about the dangers of magic and its wielders. Arthur himself had encountered practitioners of dark magic. It clearly could be a force for evil. But then he thought of how Uther had been wrong about so many things. And he remembered the terrified look in Morgana’s eyes when her secret had come out.

Then he thought about Merlin. Arthur might not know or understand much about magic, but he did know and understand Merlin. While it was difficult to be certain of much in the world, Arthur had no doubts whatsoever that Merlin would never cause him harm. In weighing the impact of both Uther and Merlin on his life, it took Arthur no time to conclude that regardless of intentions, Uther had been far more destructive than Merlin could ever be.

“It’s ok,” Arthur said, stroking a hand along Merlin’s back. “It’s all going to be fine.”

Merlin looked up.

“So you’re not going to chop my head off?”

“Of course not. I honestly had no idea and I wish that you’d told me sooner, but I understand why you didn’t. And who knows… maybe with training you could use your skills to defend Camelot.”

Merlin choked out a laugh. “About that…”

That night Merlin stayed in Arthur’s chambers, regaling his king with numerous tales of how magic had saved the kingdom and its king over the years, interspersed with breaks for embraces and kisses. As he listened to Merlin speak, Arthur was already developing plans for a repeal of Uther’s ban on magic. He was also thinking of ways to find the right words to tell his chosen family just what they meant to him. But, he acknowledged, that was a new quest and could wait for morning. For the time being Arthur Pendragon, king of Camelot and champion knight, having successfully completed the most difficult quest of his life, was content to spend the night wrapped tightly in Merlin’s arms.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
